Cologne
by ariadne-chan
Summary: Collection of ficlets, drabbles and oneliners. Probably all the characters, going from funny to serious to romance. Autoconclusive. 'In which Hihara contemplates on the cherry chapstick in his hand.' HiharaXHino
1. Cologne

Hino Kahoko's feet stalled beneath her and she came to a dead-stop, her nose scrunching up in surprise. Takato Mio, endlessly chattering beside her, stopped as well.

"Kaho-chan?"

"Mio, do you smell something?"

"Something, as in the perfume department?" her friend replied, pointing toward a cluster of glass cases.

"But there's something," Kahoko insisted as she made her way toward the perfume assistant. "I recognize that scent. Excuse me, um-"

"—good afternoon," chirped the saleswoman and amiably gestured to the small vial of a clear-colored liquid. "This is one of our most classic scents. It's called Icy Mint and is a scent preferred by esteemed gentlemen. Would you like to take some for your father or boyfriend?"

Kahoko took the bottle and uncorked it, breathing in the aroma with a long, deep breath, followed by a dreamy sigh. It was an intoxicating combination of freshly brewed tea, pine-scented rosin, and cold spring afternoons. "It's so familiar to me," she murmured half to herself.

"Maybe you know someone who wears it," commented Mio, taking a sample for herself. "Hmm, it smells nice."

"Yes, and...it makes me feel warm and safe and strong and content. I just can't put my finger on where I know it from." Dabbing a bit onto her neck so that she could continue to smell the scent, Kahoko walked off in a daze with Mio trailing behind her.

On the other side of the city, Tsukimori Len reached out inside his cabinet and caught a whiff of pine as he neatly hung in his immaculate white blazer. He took a long breath, sighed, and dreamed of moonlit nights, of strawberries, of duets.

—

**just one of my unpublished ficlets. enjoy.**

_so, do you guys want me to post another series of one-shots? tell me. ^-^_**  
**


	2. Dependency

__**Title: **Dependency  
**Author:** Ariadne-chan  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** #15: Law of Gravity  
**Character/Pairing:** Tsukimori Len/Hino Kahoko

_He is nothing without her._

—

Really, without her he is nothing. This knowledge is like a deep throbbing in his mind, a malignant tumor—or perhaps more subtle, a form of arrhythmia, the fluttered and off-kilter beatings of his heart. Four chambers dependent upon a solitary thing, breathing equals oxygen equals existence, please god.

—

This is nothing but a bizarre, desperate imagining, and she wonders if she is at all essential to him—this man who is her whole world, who allows her into that precious limited space around him. Herself, a timid and frightened moon floating uncertainly around him, and she wonders if she is, if she could be, or whether he would let her be, the greater, essential gravitational force.

—

**i'd just decided to post my entries for the no-pressure themes at the la_corda_fics livejournal community. **3**  
**


	3. Letters

_sonata__ariadne so sorry for the mixed povs and i'm quite inahurry

The letters arrive the first Sunday of each month, and Mori Manami stays a little behind as Tsuchiura Ryoutarou dutifully reads each page, more to his colleague's benefit for handing the letter than for himself.

_They're happy_—it's the first thing that Ryou always says, and it always makes Mori sigh a little. She knows of his love for the red-haired violinist and knows that any news from her tends to slowly kill him so Mori keeps on, month after month, listening, sitting on the piano chair.

It's over the bottom where Ryou's tone changes slightly, in perhaps jealousy, where he reads that she has learned to cook, so Tsukimori won't have to live on instant or take-out food for the rest of his life. She finally sends her love to all of her friends back home, and ask how Ryou had been doing lately, _really,_ because isn't it great that Tsuchiura-kun had become one of the most respected contemporary pianists in Japan? It doesn't matter—Ryou knows there is no kingdom for Hino but for a cottage surrounded by the woods and the sea. He doesn't understand why she even tries mingling with people speaking that damned incomprehensible language anyway but he knows they're happy there. He folds the letter neatly into two, pulls out the drawer by his side and carefully adds it up to the growing pile, _and why does he suddenly have trouble breathing?_

At his piano, Ryou tries to write her a sonata and his fingers bleed into an adagio without him noticing. He does his best not to feel bitter—for twenty-five years he lived without having her and he can keep on going because she was never his to begin with. Still, it aches somewhere between his fingertips and his chest.

Mori listens.

_He still plays for her, wherever she is. _


	4. Mistletoe

Dear Journal,

I was sitting inside one of the practice rooms illegally enjoying my melon buns when Kanayan walked in and asked for my opinion; did I think they should hang mistletoe up in the practice room hallways for Christmas? **o.O**

His concern was the possible arguments that it could cause, be he also thought it could be cute. Like huh. =.= They should have just asked Yunoki, doesn't he know the answer to _every-freaking-thing? _I dunno, it's just that I am so not into those kinda stuff. **:/** Of course would have to participate with decorations if they asked me to. Free food! **=DD**_  
_

So at first thought I was all for it, thinking that maybe I could meet Kaho-chan under the mistletoe hehehe. **^_^**v She'd have to kiss me, for tradition's sake, right?

But then again, what if...Tsuchiura or...or _Yunoki_ or...no Tsukimori! —or some other guy CAUGHT HER UNDER THE MISTLETOE AND...—!

"NO, NO MISTLETOE! VERY BAD IDEA!" **XD**

...and that was the end of that.

_Kazu :D_

—

haha, that was super fun! and a little bit childish. going to try and keep the updates a little more regular. so don't give up on me. :3 anyway this piece had been written for the la_corda_fics no-pressure themes. for the last untackled theme, diary/notebook/journal. woohoo! *happy dance*


	5. Definition

**Title: Definition**  
**Author: ariadne-chan**  
**Rating: G**  
**Theme: #13: Novel/Encyclopedia/Literature**  
**Character/Pairing: Kaji Aoi/Hino Kahoko**

—

_He finds her hard to read._

—

Kaji Aoi has always loved words and he shows it, trickling them into his speech like honey, like opium—heavy and golden, slow and ponderous and sweet.

He is a quick study in other languages as well—perhaps he cannot speak them so easily, but he can read those words. He can fathom that meaning.

Hino Kahoko is foreign to him, a language unto herself, cultivated in the ringing silence after the last Schubert note. He watched as she humbly bowed and walked out of the stage, watched as she let out a sigh of relief, watched as she was surrounded and congratulated by her colleagues—he can never fathom how she could be loved by so many and remain oblivious through it all. She is an open book with printed runes—an obscure piece of literature. Priceless, yes. Fascinating, even more so, but unfathomable. Her face never changes and he wonders if there is a secret door that leads into her mind, where she keeps the dictionaries that define her thoughts .

—


	6. Constancy

**Title: **Constancy  
**Author: **ariadne-chan  
**Rating: **G  
**Theme:** #7: Colors/Colored item/Favorite colors.

—

_i. first cut: hiharaxhino_

Meeting on the street; an unscripted affair, it seemed commonplace, benign. She was walking along the bright square with her violin case on hand, her hair unbound about her shoulders. He had crept up alongside her and placed a flower—one brilliant, scarlet zinnia—behind her ear.

_Let's practice together, Kaho-chan!_

She was smiling; it was going to be a beautiful day.

—

_ii. second cut: yunokixhino_

Yunoki Azuma knows lust (and he has felt it too, those dark talons insinuating themselves into the chambers of the heart in a way that manifests only as sickness). What he feels now is nothing so trivial or hot-blooded; if it were so he could resist it, for Kahoko is nothing if not patient herself.

But there is something about jazz and Kahoko, the intimacy brought on by her unbound hair. Unconsciously, he leans closer, keeps his eyes fixed on the unwavering beacon of her face. He wants to forget about his family for just one night, to take her to his garden with him, to educate her about the difference between a Karesansui and a Tsukiyama way of gardening; the evolution of something edgy, fumbling, and frantic into that slow glance they are sharing, understanding and alcohol, the long line of her spine beckoning to him from the low-slung back of her dark dress.

He catches her eye and gestures for her to follow him as he excused himself from his guests. Her absence would not be missed. She follows him obediently as he walks past seemingly endless, elaborately hand-painted Fusuma doors; neither of them thinks that words were much of a necessity. They make their way through short walkways paved with stones, past roofed arbors and paths of irregularly laid stepping stones to the inner Yunoki garden. Azuma lets out a soft sigh as he relieves the serenity of the place which were, admittedly, in dark contrast to his raging emotions. Full moon maples nurtured by his hands, the delicate finger-like leaves showing slight serrations along the edges. The colors varies from shades of bright green and red, almost at its brilliant orange autumn foliage glory, in the midst of bright peonies and irises. She flings her hair back from her face, and, without invitation, walks to the edge of the pool, to the scarlet zinnias. His brothers had scoffed at him for cultivating such hideous-looking plants; flowers so dull and unattractive that the Aztec name for them meant _'eyesore._' The flowers held another meaning to him unfortunately, like absent friends, lasting affection, constancy, goodness, even daily remembrance. Besides, unlike roses and lobelias and geraniums, the zinnias were a little bit uncommonplace.

"You shouldn't stop playing the flute, Yunoki-senpai, even if your grandmother told you to."

Kahoko is a crutch in times like these; he leans into her unyielding presence and is comforted, somehow, by her permanence.

—

_/abysmal profundity_: thanks for taking the time to let me know what you think of my short stories. i really, really appreciate it.

_/maripas:_ i've missed you! happy to see you around. ^-^

_/empatheticsympatheticpathetic: _whew, had to copy paste. teehee. you write beautifully, yourself. and your reviews never fail to make me smile. they're so poetic.

_/fieryhazel:_ i've actually considered going for that kind of perspective, but then it struck me that len should be the one to feel that way and instead ended up with the drabble. did you get to write your idea down? i'd love to see it. ^-^

_/azngurl113219:_ cheers to one-shots!

_/ishikawa aya-hime:_ glad to know you think of my words as some form of acceptable art. you just made me cry, y'know.

_/athena katorea knightstar:_ i'm actually working on my stories as have no plans to drop 'em. you'd see some progress if you take the time to check them out. ;p it's thanks to people like you that i force to get my lazy bum up, ugh. stay tuned! ^-^

_/ate andie and yunie:_ still. i hearts you guys.

_/infatuation-x_ and the two anonymous reviewers: arigato! _hontou._


	7. Bare

**Title:** Bare  
**Author: **Ariadne-chan  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme: **#10: Beauty in the Eye  
**Character/Pairing:** Yunoki Azuma/Hino Kahoko

Kahoko's unpainted mouth is a source of constant fascination to him. It is true that her lips need no adornment, that such colorful accoutrements would be, on her, vulgar and useless. Azuma is not certain why this is so, until he notices that her eyes are similar—she does not decorate the skin about them either. He might have ruined precious minutes in forcing her to look splendid for the night and wasted yet another hour reiterating that with the helpless, _i'm-no-good-i-can't-do-it-after-all_ face she was bound to be the epitome of pathetic—all it took was for her to look up at him with the tear-stained face and good sense be damned—her eyes are her best features.

As she walks slowly to the stage he realizes that there are tiny histories embedded in her awkward countenance. With a small sigh he acknowledges the unlikely beauty in the determined drawing of a bow against Tzigane strings and begins to dream of a future, drawn from a fascinating saga in the impressive, naked contours of her face.


	8. Kiss

**Title:** Kiss  
**Author:** Ariadne-chan  
**Rating**: G  
**Theme:** # 8: Match/Matchmaker  
**Character/Pairing:**Tsukimori Len/Hino Kahoko

At first, like butterflies, the gentle fluttering of eyelashes against the face; soft heartbeats, small and afraid, stuttering like stuck moths in lamplight. A match has been lit and it has ignited the fire—there was no one else there but the two of them, and for this one night, it was enough. Wind howled outside the empty function hall where they had just performed a duet—a dry storm raging, but still a storm and they both were unsettled. Perhaps more than usual; perhaps too much, so that it was painfully showing.

Then, in all quietness, like tired, forgiving animals, they bump faces and become still, nose to nose, eyelash to blinking eyelash, breath and breath.

They stare at each other in that abnormal, gasping stillness, unbelieving and skeptical of this moment's true meaning, if there is any. They were rivals, not exactly a match to the other, but a match they were nonetheless. They wait, uncomfortably, for an interruption.

—

to you, empatheticsympatheticpathetic.

fieryhazel, arigato.


	9. Boundary Lines

**Title: **Boundary Lines  
**Author:** Ariadne-chan  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** #4: Casual/Stiff  
**Character/Pairing:** Tsukimori Len/ Hino Kahoko

Once, in an attempt to soothe the sharp attitude of his shoulders she had tentatively placed a hand against his spine. Her intentions were platonic; she had known him for only a short while, but what precious little time their double practices had been. Still, he turned away; she had half expected him to gather his things up and walk out of the practice room. He shook his head slightly and berated her instead _'Relax your arms; they're _too_ stiff._' Kahoko had felt hurt, but she had understood the message; Tsukimori-kun could not shrug off his stiff bearing, could not possibly ease himself into the other, gentler self that he kept locked neatly and secretly away in the other hemisphere of his brain. With a small sigh, she had smiled at him, tilted her head up and lifted her arms gracefully as she posed to play. She thought she saw a ghost of a smile on his face. _Hope._


	10. Sewing Idol!

**Title: **Sewing Idol!  
**Author: **Ariadne-chan  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing:** Kanazawa Hiroto/Amou Nami  
**Theme:** #3: Rolemodel/Idol

—

"Misaki-sensei!" Amou Nami wailed. The Home-Economics teacher looked up to see her pouting and clutching the front of her uniform in both hands.

"Amou-san. What is it?"

"Do you have a needle and a thread?"

"Somewhere, I think. Why?"

She sighed, and a blush slowly tinted her cheeks. "One of my buttons fell off on my walk over." She removed a hand from her blouse and held up her other open palm to reveal a small white button.

Misaki nodded in understanding and quickly retreated into the teachers' locker room. A moment later he reappeared with a small sewing kit in hand. Nami took it gratefully, scurried to a corner table and measured a long piece of thread. She cut it with her teeth, threaded the needle, and proceeded to shift her gaze from the needle to the button to her blouse, with a growing frown.

That was how Kanazawa Hiroto found her a moment later when he lazily strolled into the room, his hair askew from his afternoon walk.

"Hey, who gave Little Miss know-it-all a weapon?" he joked as he eyed her and leaned against his high-backed chair.

Nami gasped and quickly clutched at her blouse before the teacher could see the skin revealed where the button had popped off. Then she yelped and tore her hands away as she felt the needle pierce the tip of her thumb. Looking down, she noticed a droplet of blood.

Hiroto noticed it, too, for a wave of guilt crashed against him. He slid onto the chair beside her and cringed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said quietly as he took a napkin from the dispenser and wrapped it around her thumb. She only glared at him and, with her free hand, gathered up the material of her shirt again. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Nothing," she spat, and then added after a moment of hesitation, "...sensei."

He quirked an eyebrow and glanced down at the forgotten button on the table.

Nami rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from his as she held the napkin tightly in her fist. It was a well-known campus fact that the press club president doesn't hold the irresponsible Kanazawa-sensei much in her high esteem, and that the teacher loved nothing more than to push her buttons and engage into battles of wit. "I was just about to sew on a button that fell off."

"Yeah?"

"What's it to you?"

"Well, I'm a teacher! I'm supposed to be the role model, you know, helping students and stuff."

"You aren't helping at all. You're just being nosy."

"Eh, 'didn't look like you were getting very far."

"Oh, shut up."

"Do you want help?"

"What, you think you're some kind of a sewing legend or something?"

"Have you ever sewed anything before?"

"I think I can figure it out, dimwit."

Hiroto grinned lopsidedly as he took the needle and button in one hand and gingerly pried Nami's fingers away from her blouse. Despite her paranoia of saving her modesty, it was only the second button that had fallen off and revealed hardly any more skin at the base of her neck than one normally saw there. Hitoyo chuckled and, before Nami could protest, began to sew on the little white button.

"Honestly, Miss know-it-all, you'll make a great housewife someday," he murmured sarcastically, still smiling. "I should be your idol now, eh?"

Nami, who had been gawking at Hiroto's efficiency with the tiny needle, drew her brow down. "What idol? Just throw you in a pink apron, and you would, too, baka."

Her comment only made him laugh harder, and began tying off the thread. He pulled the affixed button through its hole and tapped it gently against Nami's sternum. "You just want to see me in an apron."

"You just want to see me as a housewife!"

They both paused, the bickering dying as they recognized what the other had insinuated. Their eyes clashed awkwardly for a moment, before color flooded their cheeks and they laughed.

—

hehe. amouxhiroto. weird, eh?


	11. Utopia

_hey jude, don't let me down_  
_you have found her, now go and get her_  
_remember to let her into your heart_  
_then you can start to make it better_

—

**Title: **Utopia  
**Author:** Ariadne-chan  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** #12: Universe/World/Galaxy  
**Character/Pairing:** Tsuchiura Ryoutarou/ Hino Kahoko

—

She closes her eyes the first time he touches her face, and so he dares to trace a finger over the trembling, delicate lids. She is Kaho without the useless naivete and optimistic dreams and he wants to capture this moment, recognizing its imperfections. More than that, he wants her to look at him and see her as Ryou, a man, not as Tsuchiura-kun, brother and friend. He wants that strange and dazzling gaze she has to focus on him, to meet him honestly because how else can love enter the body, if not through the eyes? He feels powerless and liquid in the darkness, touching the smooth line of her jaw, feeling her surrender to his fingers. This is a dream of the soul of the world, a shimmer of hope that had fueled movement of his universe, all quietness, all faith, the perceptions of two people who are not yet lovers breathing in the dark, poised.

—


	12. Allergy

_just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight_

—

**Title: **Kiss  
**Author: **Ariadne-chan  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing:** Hihara Kazuki/Hino Kahoko  
**Theme:** #11: Ill/Allergy

—

Hihara Kazuki stared at the tube of cherry chapstick in his hand,

his allergy to fish and seafood derivatives be damned.

So even though it was cold outside,

And his mouth was dry,

He could only think...  
_  
Indirect kiss._

—

waha! i thought it seemed funny and ironic enough for kazu-chi the gluttonwhowouldeatanything to have some sort of allergic reaction to "fish and seafood derivatives" hehehe


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